The moist, plant-rich smell of the ivy covered earth filled my nostrils, and I closed my eyes to take it in. The typical reeks were gone, all the glass was washed away, and ... the earth was reaching out of its human-limned borders and creeping over the walls, sliding down the staircase at geologic speed, covering cement and asphalt and all petty pretences at permanence. Lined up eight across and receding into the distance, a phalanx of Red Eared Sliders was marching down the ramp in a bumble of uneven motion, breaking around my feet and continuing in a path that would take them to the lake. Frogs hung upside-down from the overpass. Salamanders slithered on the safety railing.
The rich, life-laden air suddenly passed the saturation point, and condensed to form ...
my bus, taking me to work.